Reverof
by harley.doll
Summary: When Talia al Ghul returns Bruce must call on an old friend for help and Max must step up and do what no one else can.
1. Prologue

[AN: _When it comes to the whole Batman universe, Zatanna is my favorite character and I absolutely love her friendship with Bruce. I decided to put all the spells in italics, but if that makes it too difficult to read just let me know! The prologue is set during B:TAS, but the rest of the story is Batman Beyond, I promise. As always, I own nothing. I hope you like it!_]

Zatanna sighed as she closed the door of her dressing room behind her. She loved performing but sometimes…

"Sometimes I think these shows might be the end of me," she muttered. She kicked off her heels and removed her hat. With a flick of her wrist she tossed it and it landed primly on the mannequin head that sat on her vanity. Sliding behind her screen she began to undress as she called out to her visitor.

"You know it's not polite to lurk in the corner of a woman's dressing room."

"That's why I only do it to you." Bruce's voice emerged from the shadows, his body following suit soon after.

"Well don't I feel special," Zatanna said. Coming out from behind the screen in her favorite sweatpants, her grin faded as she gave Bruce a quick once-over. "You're been near some very dangerous magic."

Bruce hesitated. "Yes," he said slowly. "I need-"

Zatanna went to Bruce and opened his cape. She pressed the back of one hand to his forehead and grabbed his wrist with her other, taking his pulse. "The next words out of your mouth had better be 'medical attention'."

"Actually they're 'your advice'. I'm not sure what the effects of this spell are supposed to be but I am…uncomfortable." He paused to search for his last word as Zatanna took her hand from his forehead and placed it on his chest. She began to whisper.

"_Llet em tahw deneppah thginot_." Bruce felt the warmth of Zatanna's magic as it scanned his body. Her eyes were closed and her forehead was wrinkled in concentration as she continued to mutter, now in Latin. He watched, slightly mystified before she opened her eyes and met his gaze. Her mouth was set in a grim line. "You've seen Ra's and Talia tonight," she stated.

"Yes," he replied. He learned long ago that when it came to talking about Talia to Zatanna and vice versa, it was best to keep the answers simple.

"Your discomfort is the result of two things. First, Ra's attempted to drug you, which I'm guessing you know and have already rectified." Bruce nodded and his head began to swim. Zatanna wordlessly took his arm and pulled him towards her makeup chair forcing him to sit. "Second, Talia attempted to use magic to keep you close to her. Roughly translated, the wording of her spell was 'Keep our hearts forever intertwined and let his love for me burn eternal.' But Talia is an amateur and a little bit twisted, so her spell affected your literal heart as opposed to your emotional one. Now your heart believes that hers is its other half and is missing. It is struggling to keep you alive."

"Can you fix it?" Bruce questioned. He attempted to mask how tired he felt but Zatanna caught the weakness in her friend's voice. With a wave of her hand a washcloth from her sink floated to her as she removed his cowl. She gently pressed the damp cloth to his forehead.

"I can try. But mixing magic is very risky and extremely dangerous. You'll need to rest afterwards."

"I have a job to do."

"You can either rest tonight and resume your job tomorrow or die tonight and leave Gotham to its own devices. There is no third option," Zatanna said sharply. She dismissed the cloth back to the sink as she slipped on her coat and books began to place themselves into her bag. Zatanna grabbed her wand. "Time to go home," she said as she laid a hand on his arm.

"Batmobile's outside," Bruce said. "I can't leave it."

"_Elibomtab, nruter ot enyaw ronam_." She pointed her wand at the wall that separated her dressing room from the alley. Outside, the Batmobile roared to life and took off towards its home. "There. Now it's our turn. _Enyaw ronam, s'ecurb moordeb._" In a haze of purple smoke Zatanna teleported herself and Bruce to his bedroom and managed to steer Bruce towards the bed as his knees gave out and he fell unconscious. Dropping her bag Zatanna pulled out all three books and positioned them at eye level. The pages began to flip on their own in search of the right counter spells as Alfred entered the room.

"I was quite afraid that something like this would be the case when the car returned alone," he said sadly. Walking to Zatanna's side he began to help her remove Bruce's cape and body armor. "What happened and what can I do?"

"Talia cast a spell on him, but the effects aren't what she intended," Zatanna replied. "For now, nothing, but once he wakes up you can help me lock him out of the cave."

Alfred offered a grim smile. "If only. Does Miss Talia know what she's done?"

Zatanna shook her head. "I doubt it. In fact, she probably didn't believe it would work."

"Then why do it?"

"A last ditch effort from a desperate woman," Zatanna said quietly. "I try not to argue with him about her anymore but this…she's gone way too far Alfred."

"I agree Miss Zatanna," Alfred said as he helped her maneuver Bruce onto his pillow and underneath the sheets. "What type of spell was it?"

"One to 'intertwine their hearts,' which wouldn't be a problem if she would just make up her damn mind."

"Deciding between the two most important people in one's life would be a challenge for anyone dear," Alfred said gently. Zatanna sighed as she sat beside Bruce on the bed and prepared for her magical counter-attack

"I know. But seeing him like this…"

Alfred placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It pains me as well."

The books' pages settled. Zatanna read each finding carefully, she and Alfred wincing each time Bruce groaned in pain. Finally, she lifted her wand and took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing." Waving her wand over Bruce's chest, Zatanna began to whisper in Latin again. Alfred watched in horror as a smoky green tendril exited Bruce's body. Swirling up and out of the center of his chest the tendril hung in the air, unable to return to its hiding place in spite of its efforts. Bruce groaned again as the smoky substance continued to pour from his torso until finally its end appeared.

"Destroy it," Alfred muttered horrified. "Can you?" Before Zatanna could answer the tendril began to move again. Before their eyes the green haze began to pull itself into a loose shape and suddenly they were faced with a translucent Talia al Ghul. Her face curled into a snarl and her mouth opened in a silent scream as she lunged at Zatanna. Alfred jumped back as the figure grabbed Zatanna and flung itself and the magician across the room and into Bruce's dresser. Zatanna cried out as her back slammed into the drawers. Alfred stepped forward to help her, but the apparition turned, still snarling and leapt toward Alfred. Zatanna calmly reached into the middle of the figure and closed her hand into a fist. A purple glow emanated from her hand and the Talia impression was trapped.

"_Edolpmi,_" she whispered. Talia began to struggle and fight as a brighter green light began to shine within her. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as the tendrils unraveled and then simply evaporated. Alfred rushed over to help Zatanna up and she threw him a grateful smile. From the bed Bruce moaned again.

"I'll be alright for one night Zee," he said deliriously. Alfred and Zatanna went to either side of the bed and Zatanna placed a hand on his chest.

"He's okay," she sighed with relief. "He's weak, but he's okay." Alfred nodded and looked at Zatanna.

"I assume you'll want to keep his company. I shall bring up some blankets." Alfred said as he walked towards the door. Zatanna met him halfway and gently kissed his cheek.

"Thanks Alfred," she said. Both of them ignored the fact that she could easily conjure her own blankets; after watching the events of the night, it made sense that Alfred would want something to do to busy himself.

"If only I had the same luxury," she muttered. Sighing, Zatanna slid a chair up beside Bruce's bed, dug up his notes on the night and propped her feet up preparing for the long night ahead.

Around six Bruce began to stir. His attempts to stretch his legs out were blocked and he was forced to crack one eye to see what he'd fallen asleep working on. But instead of the expected jumble of notes and criminal files, he saw legs. He opened the other eye and took in Zatanna's sleeping form. Bruce sat up and was immediately overcome with a wave of dizziness. The motion jostled Zatanna and she too began to come out of her sleep induced haze. Her eyes snapped open when they landed on Bruce and with a swirl of her hand she conjured a glass of water. He drained the glass quickly before leaning back.

"What the hell happened last night?"

Zatanna didn't answer immediately; instead she went to the intercom and pressed the call button. "He's awake, Alfred." She turned to Bruce as she walked back to the bed. "I managed to remove the effects of her spell, but I was afraid that casting another one to heal you would be taking it a little too far."

The events of the previous night returned to him piece by piece and Bruce's brow wrinkled. "Wouldn't it just cure me of everything?"

Zatanna shook her head with a sad smile. "No. If there were any traces of her spell left over- and I mean even the tiniest little speck of a spell-my magic could have worsened your condition. Mixing magic-"

"Is very risky and extremely dangerous," Bruce finished. "Yeah I got it, _Zana_." He emphasized the nickname, knowing she hated it and hoping it would facilitate a change in subject.

"Don't try to distract me _Brucie_," she retaliated. "After what you put me through last night I think I'm entitled to a little nagging."

"Fine," Bruce said resolutely. "But can you at least magic up some breakfast first?"

"_Tsafkaerb rof owt dna aet rof derfla._" A tray laden with food appeared over Bruce's legs and downstairs, Alfred found a steaming cup of tea resting on the table he had just finished dusting. "He deserves a lot more than that," Zatanna said. "But I think the rest should come from you."

Bruce patted the empty side of the bed and Zatanna walked around to sit beside him. They ate in silence and once their plates were empty, Bruce glanced at her.

"Say it." It comes out like an order but she knew that it was more of a tired request; he wanted her to be the one to get it out in the open so that they could break the tension and go back to witty banter.

"It would only be a waste of breath," she said refusing to take the bait. Instead she sipped her coffee and looked through her lashes at him. He frowned.

"You were right Zee, I get it. I won't let it happen again."

"I never wanted to be 'right' Bruce. In fact, I wish I had been wrong about Talia."

Bruce snorted. "You hate her."

"'Hate' is a strong word. But I intensely dislike her for what she has put you through."

"I was a willing participant."

"Bruce, you've stuck your neck out for her time and time again and each time she beheads you." Zatanna waved her hand and dismissed their dishes, resting her mug on the now empty tray before turning to face Bruce. She placed a hand on his arm. "She will _always_ choose Ra's over you. You know that."

"She wants to be different Zatanna. Who am I to deny her that?"

"Every time she comes crawling back saying 'never again' you give her another chance and every time she runs right back to Daddy the second he opens his arms. This woman is going to be the death of you."

Bruce met Zatanna's gaze. The curtains were still drawn and he felt the sadness that radiated off of her more than saw it. He sighed. _I hate arguing with you, _he thought_._ "I'm sorry for what I put you through. And thank you for cleaning up my mess." Gingerly, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She repositioned herself, leaning her head against his shoulder and placed one hand on his chest. She could just barely feel his heartbeat.

_If Talia had had her way, it would have stopped,_ she couldn't help but think bitterly. "You're welcome." She allowed a half-grin to form when she felt Bruce stiffen slightly.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked. He knew from prior experience that if Zatanna was still even the slightest bit upset, he needed to be as far out of range as possible. _Not that she wouldn't find me in minutes_, he thought wryly.

"Not yet," she said reveling in his now fear-tinged aura. Alfred walked in and placed the newspaper in Zatanna's vacated seat.

"May I suggest taking Miss Zatanna to a nice dinner?" he said as he opened the curtains. "Or maybe lending her the jet? It's the least you could do."

Zatanna smiled as Bruce groaned. "Why do you always take her side?"

"Because she's always right," Alfred replied with the quickest of winks in Zatanna's direction. "I have already set out your suit for today, sir. I'll be downstairs dusting something if you need me."

"You should listen to your elders, Bruce," she teased as Alfred left. She moved to get up but Bruce's grip around her tightened slightly.

"Help me with the report?" he asked. "I don't remember much of what happened after I went to see you." She looked at him. His face was set as if he didn't care whether she stayed or left, but his eyes were those of the boy she'd met ages ago. She grinned up at him.

"Do I get the jet?"

"We'll discuss it over dinner."

"In Paris?"

"No."

"How about Spain? You promised for my birthday and then Two-Face robbed a bank," she said as he opened his mouth to say no again.

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did. Last year?"

Bruce remembered. "Maybe," he said with a small smile. Zatanna patted his cheek as Bruce's scrawled notes appeared in her other hand. She sat up and leaned against the headboard as she skimmed them, a pencil appearing in her hand as she scribbled what was probably nothing more than colorful commentary. "Those are serious notes," Bruce said.

"Not anymore they're not." Bruce sighed in mock frustration which caused Zatanna to laugh. Bruce stole a sip of her coffee as he pretended to read the newspaper that Alfred brought in. Zatanna simply waited. Before long her patience was rewarded and Bruce cleared his throat awkwardly. "Zee, I uh…I just-"

"Yes?" Her voice was sweet but Bruce knew better; usually she'd recognize this tone and throw him a bone, but it seemed that there would be none of that today.

"I-thank you. Again," he said after a slight pause. She looked at him from the corner of her eye.

Zatanna simply shook her head and returned to his notes. "I love you too Brucie," she chuckled.

Bruce gave an almost imperceptible sigh of relief and shifted closer so he could read what she was writing. "Don't call me Brucie."

"Don't call me Zana."

Bruce glanced at her. "You really shouldn't be jealous of Talia." He suppressed a grin when the word 'jealous' caused Zatanna's eyes to flash. "After all, if any woman is going to be the death of me Zee, it's you."

Zatanna relaxed and grinned also. "And don't you forget it." She took her coffee mug and drained the last sip. "But now that she's playing with magic you'll have to be much more careful," she warned him.

"I'm not too worried Zee," he said. "I have you."

[_I think Bruce is a little OOC at the end, but I like to think that with Zatanna he shows just a smidge of sappy vulnerability. Is it too much? Feedback is always appreciated!_]


	2. No One Says Hooky Anymore

[AN: _Chapter 1! As you probably guessed from the prologue I like writing about friends and the different bonds between them, and this story sort of revolves around that. I hope you like it!_]

"Step inside ladies and gents! Try your hand and test your aim, see if you can win a prize for your date!" The carnival worker's gaze swept over the crowd and landed on Terry, Dana and Max. "Or dates as the case may be," he said, dropping Terry a wink. Dana and Max giggled as Terry clenched his jaw and led the girls away from the tent.

"Why do they always hire the dreggiest guys to work at carnivals? I mean really, with all the kids around you'd think they'd do more thorough background checks," Terry said, stealing a handful of popcorn from Dana's box. It was a beautiful Friday in Gotham and before school Dana and Max had called Terry proposing a "mental health day" at the yearly carnival in Gotham Park. While he wasn't much for carnivals, he was a huge fan of taking days off, so he'd agreed immediately.

"They do not always hire the dreggiest guys to work at carnivals," Dana protested. "If they did, they would have hired you first."

"Good one!" Max laughed as Terry rolled his eyes.

"Tell me again why I agreed to spend all day with you two ganging up on me?"

"Because you love us," Dana replied.

"And you hate school. Watch out for Stilts," Max said.

All three of them stopped to allow the stilt-walking fire juggler to pass them. "And you think your job is dangerous," Max muttered to Terry.

"After everything Wayne puts me through, I think juggling fire on stilts would be a breeze," he laughed. They watched as the towering man passed through the billowing tents, never missing a step. "His coordination is unbelievable though, I'll give him that."

As Terry and Max watched Stilts disappear, Dana looked down the park's path. Red and white striped tents lined each side of the concrete path from entrance to exit, giving the park a bright, happy feel. A class of children ran from tent to tent peeking into the open tent flaps and running to the next before their chaperones could catch them, the worst of them being an adorable little boy who ran up to Dana.

"Do you know where the lions are?" he asked, tilting his head. Dana pulled out the virtual map they'd received when they first entered the park. "Three tents behind us on the left," she said. "But we just came from there and you have to be this tall to go in by yourself." She held her hand just above the boy's head and smiled. He gave her a cotton candy smeared grin in return and took off towards the nearest harried chaperone.

"Liar," Max said grinning. "You didn't even know there were lions here."

"He didn't know that," Dana said. "And I think it was a necessary lie. I saved that kid from being eaten."

Terry shrugged. "What's one less twip in the world?"

"You're all heart McGinnis."

"I try my best. So what's next?" Terry asked, looking at the map over Dana's shoulder. "Fire eaters or contortionists?"

Dana didn't answer. Instead she looked up and then back down to the map. And then repeated the process.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing to a tent in the distance. The dark green tent was smaller than those surrounding it. Unlike the other tents, its entrance flaps were down and there was no one in front calling out to the crowd. "It's not on the map."

"Maybe it's newer. Or older," Terry said. "Either way, it doesn't look like it traveled with this crowd."

"Then why is it here now?" Dana replied. She took a few steps forward, as if drawn by the tent. "Let's go inside."

"Or we could avoid it like everyone else is," Max said. She watched as the kids ran from tent to tent noticing how each one passed the smaller tent as if it wasn't there.

"It's a carnival tent Max, nothing to be afraid of. And besides, Terry will be there to protect us." Dana said as she made a beeline for the tent. Max looked at Terry.

"We have to follow her don't we?"

"Uh-huh."

She sighed. "Then let's get this over with."

They followed Dana and reached the tent as she stepped in. They opened the flaps, the light from outside the tent showing them a small wooden table topped with a crystal ball and tarot cards. The gray-haired woman sitting behind the table spread her arms, welcoming them as if she'd been expecting them. "Playing hooky are we? That's alright with Madame Liata, she's been waiting for some company." She gestured to the chair across from her. "Have a seat, she will tell your fortune."

"Hooky?" Terry echoed.

Max shook her head. "No thanks. I don't trust people who talk about themselves in the third person."

Dana discreetly elbowed Max. "Be nice," Dana hissed. She took the chair offered by Madame Liata. "How much to tell my fortune?"

The fortune teller smiled. "Such a pretty girl. No charge." She took one of Dana's hands between both of hers and closed her eyes. "She sees excitement and sadness, longing and just a hint of frustration." She cracked one eye and looked at Terry. "It looks like someone has missed a date or two." Max couldn't help but giggle as Terry sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. Madame Liata gave a smug grin and closed both eyes again. She began humming as she stroked Dana's palm. "You are graduating soon. You wish to start the next chapter, but are reluctant to leave the safety of what is known."

Dana nodded excitedly. "What else do you see?"

"She sees-" Liata's hand froze as her brow crinkled. "Tan," she whispered.

Terry's eyebrows shot up and he threw Max a glance. Her eyes were narrowed; she looked just as suspicious as he felt.

"Madame Liata foretold you many years ago when she met your father," the psychic continued.

Dana froze, unable to take her eyes from Liata. "You met my father?"

Liata nodded and opened her eyes. "Long ago. He was a good man, but he could not pay. Madame took alternative payment." Liata reached into her layers of clothing and withdrew a dulled but delicate golden band on a thin black cord. She removed the cord from her own neck and held it to for Dana to see. The inside of the ring was engraved with tiny flowing script. Dana reached out tentatively and touched the cord.

"I've never seen this before," she whispered.

"Because Madame has had it! But she admits its rightful place is around your neck."

Dana shook her head slightly. "I can't. I didn't pay."

Liata smiled gently, moving the hand holding the necklace to Dana's cheek. "It is unfair for Madame to keep this any longer."

Dana didn't respond as Liata slipped the cord over Dana's head and watched as Dana examined the ring in reverent silence. "Thank you," she said.

Liata nodded. "Of course my dear. Now go. Your friends are becoming impatient."

Dana stood up and turned towards Max and Terry. "Let's go," she whispered. Terry held the tent's flap as Dana led the way out of the tent, Max following behind her. Terry looked back at Madame Liata one last time. She smiled.

"Thank you for gracing Madame with your presence. She will see you soon."

"Not likely," Terry said. He turned and left the tent, letting the flap drop behind him. Madame Liata's smile fell and she spoke to the empty tent.

"It was not a question."


	3. Everybody Loves a Thief

[AN:_ All I can do is apologize profusely and hope that this long hiatus hasn't pushed this story from your mind. I hope you like it and if I begin to slack again please tell me to get my ass in gear!_]

"Maybe he's part vampire. That would explain why he always calls you at night," Dana theorized. She and Max were flipping through magazines on her bed as Terry crawled under it to find his shoes.

"He goes to meetings during the day D," Max pointed out. "He would've burst into flame ages ago."

"Good point. Maybe he's hiding from someone. The mob used to be really big in Gotham, maybe he got mixed up with them."

"Even if he did, he's loaded. He could pay the mob off five times over and still be rolling in it," Terry said, pulling on his shoe. "He's just always been a night owl. And when you work for him, so are you." He grabbed his bag and headed for the door. "'Night ladies."

"'Night," they chorused.

"I've gotta go too," Max said. "I'm dead on my feet."

"You're on your butt," Dana pointed out laughing. Max rolled her eyes and shoved Dana before standing and stretching. Dana followed suit and headed for her desk. "Hey, before you go look at this for me?"

"What's up?" Max leaned against the desk as Dana turned on the lamp.

"I've been trying to figure out what this says, but it's really small." Taking off the necklace she held the ring under the light.

Max leaned in, trying to read the inscription. She shook her head. "I don't know. I can barely even tell those are words." She held the ring between her thumb and pointer finger and turned it, trying to decipher the inscription. "I could take it home and try to figure it out…" Dana pulled the ring back quickly and wrapped her hand around it.

"That's okay," she said. "I'll figure it out." Max studied Dana for a minute, not missing how defensive she'd become.

"Well if you need help…" she started. Dana nodded.

"I'll call you." She smiled as she changed the subject. "Want a ride?"

Max grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."

[***]

"You there Flyboy?" An hour later Max adjusted her headset as her computer connected with the Batmobile's.

"What took you so long?" Terry asked once his face appeared on the screen.

"We stopped for ice cream."

"Without me? I'm hurt."

"Hey, if you're going to be a hero, you've got to be prepared to make sacrifices." Both of them paused.

"There's a quart in your freezer isn't there?"

"A pint. And half of it is mine."

"Not if I get to it first." A second window popped up on Max's screen.

"Evening Mr. Wayne," Max said.

"Gibson," Bruce said. It hadn't been that long since Bruce had reluctantly welcomed Max into the fold. It took him a while, but he finally admitted that having her around was beneficial. He'd even allowed her to see the Batcave. It had only happened twice, both times with him following her every move and not allowing her to touch anything, but Max still counted it as a victory. "Terry, there's a break-in in progress at the Library, fifth floor. How close are you?"

Max and Bruce heard the Batmobile speed up. "2 minutes away, tops. But it's a false alarm."

"How do you know?"

"Max is the only person I know who's sad enough to break into the library and she's sitting at home."

"Cute. You can patch yourself up tonight," Max said as she pulled up the library's website. "They started that ancient sword exhibit at the library last week, remember? Today is the last day."

"Swords, huh? Could be Curare looking for a new toy," Terry said. "I'm landing on the roof now."

"Assassins tend to stay within their murderous comfort zones," Bruce countered. "What swords do they have?"

"It varies," Max answered. "The collection is made up completely of donations."

"It's pretty impressive," Terry whispered. Max hacked into the library's security mainframe and began flipping from camera to camera until she found what she was looking for.

"Go down the next hallway on your right. There's an empty display case in the second room on the left."

Bruce and Max watched silently as Terry found the room and the empty case. Terry squatted to read the display information. "I should've known," he said standing up.

"Known what," Bruce said.

Max zoomed in on the description and had to chuckle. "May I?"

"Be my guest," Terry said, bending to examine glass from the broken window.

"'Golden-handled Katana sword of unknown date and origin, extensively used. Donated by Bruce Wayne.' How much is it worth?" she asked Bruce.

"Financially not much, which rules out your average thief."

"Maybe you can tell me," Terry called out. Flipping to the external cameras, Max saw who Terry was talking to. A woman was perched on one of the gargoyles that adorned the side of the building, looking down at the streets below her. "That sword you just stole? I'll be taking that back." The woman turned and in the light from the streets below Max could see her green eyes perfectly. The picture blurred slightly as the woman stood up and the light shifted hiding her eyes once again. She was seemingly unperturbed by the fact that the ledge on which she was balanced was 15 stories high. "I'll make you a deal," Terry continued. "You give me the sword and I'll tell Gotham PD that you cooperated. Maybe they'll give you a break on the whole breaking and entering thing."

The woman watched carefully as Terry took a few steps forward. Max studied the woman carefully. "Careful Ter," she said. "Something about her isn't quite right."

"Obviously," Terry muttered back. "She just stole a worthless sword from a library." Suddenly, the woman turned and leapt off the ledge. "No!" Terry shouted. Kicking into gear Terry flew after her, preparing to catch the thief in midair.

"Where is she?" Bruce barked into his ear, breaking his uncharacteristic silence.

"She's gone," Terry replied incredulously. "There's no trace of her anywhere."

"There has to be," Bruce said. "Look harder."

"I'm circling the building now. There's no sign of her." Terry circled the building twice searching for sign of the woman, but there was none.

"Hey, go back to the ledge of the building where she jumped off. It looks like she left something behind." Max zoomed in on the area. "It looks like a piece of clothing or something." Terry made his way back to the ledge and stooped to pick up what Max saw.

"It's a scrap of cloth," he said. "It looks pretty generic but I'll bring it back to the cave for analysis."

"Good," Bruce replied. "Max, figure out everything you can about that sword for now. Tomorrow, you can look in the library here and see what you can find."

"You got it," Max chirped. Bruce's window closed as Max switched back to the Batmobile's camera. Opening a new window, Max connected to Bruce's personal computer. "Find anything?" she asked Terry.

"No. I keep circling the perimeter but she's not here. Could you check the traffic cameras?"

"Sure. And I can't find too much about the sword. It looks like Bruce took it for research and came up empty." Max said.

"He hates it when you hack into his files," Terry reminded her with a laugh.

"I wouldn't have to if he would just give me his passwords." Terry could hear her smile as she responded. After a brief pause she spoke again. "Nothing on the traffic cams. Do you think she went underground? I mean all she'd have to do is lose the mask and she'd blend in on the subway."

"With a sword?"

"This is Gotham. Stranger things have happened."

"I think Bruce has some cameras of his own down there. I'll check it out in the cave." Max resumed searching Bruce's files as Terry circled the library again. She dug through his frustratingly vague notes, typing up what she found in a file of her own. Both worked in silence until Max's phone began to sing from behind her.

"Who is it?" Terry asked as he finally turned the Batmobile back towards Wayne Manor.

"Nosy much," Max joked. She turned and grabbed her phone and scanned the caller ID. "It's Dana," she said with surprise.

"She's still up?" Terry asked.

"Guess so." Max flipped open the phone and put it on speaker. "Hello?"

"Hey. Did I wake you?" Dana's voice was shaky and Max went immediately into best friend mode.

"Nah I was up. What's wrong?"

"I had a nightmare."

"What about?"

"That woman from the carnival. We were walking near Crime Alley and she told me that she needed a favor."

Max wrinkled her forehead. "What kind of favor?"

"I don't remember," Dana said distractedly. "But I _do _remember saying no. And then she choked me." Dana's voice began to crack.

"I'm going over there," Terry broke in.

_No. She'll want to know how you knew. Too many questions. _Max sent the short reply and muted her headset. "What happened then Dana?"

"I woke up. But the dream isn't what freaked me out. After I dropped you off I _know _I went to sleep in my bed. But I woke up in the garage with that stupid necklace tangled around my neck!" Dana sobbed. "Maxie, how the hell did I get out there?"

"D, you need to breathe okay? Come on, take a deep breath." Max listened as Dana took a slow and shaky breath. "Good. One more time. There you go. Now listen, I know this is freaking you out but sleepwalking is pretty common, as are nightmares. Together they're admittedly pretty scary but they're _normal_." There was silence on Dana's end of the line and Max answered Dana's next question before she could ask. "Do you want to stay over here tonight?"

"I'm already heading for the car."

Max laughed softly. "You know if I didn't know any better I'd think we could read each other's minds."

"I think that kicks in at the 15 year mark. We're only at the 10," Dana joked back weakly. Max heard her door close. "I'll be there soon."

"Drive safe." They hung up and Max turned her attention back to Terry. "I'm back."

"How common is sleepwalking really?" Terry inquired.

Max hesitated. "Pretty common."

"Uh-huh. You sound convinced."

"Sleepwalking is common, but it's rarely more than just walking to a different room. She went downstairs and outside, which is more dangerous."

"There's something else you're not saying."

"She was really…protective of that necklace. But I remember she took it off before we left."

"She could have put it back on before bed."

"Yeah," Max replied. "But when we were kids my sister told us this story about a girl who slept with a necklace on and was strangled in her sleep. Neither one of us has done it since."

"Maybe Dana got over the story before you did."

"Maybe," Max echoed. _But something still doesn't feel right._ "She'll be here soon. I should make this room look less like that of a vigilante's assistant."

Terry chuckled. "Fill me in tomorrow?"

"Don't I always? Good night Ter."

"'Night again Max." She hung up and turned off the computer and the headset, then put both back on her desk. She spread out her history homework and locked her window just as she heard a knock on the door. She opened to Dana who looked sad and small, her eyes still red and her frame dwarfed by Terry's jacket, her overnight bag slung carelessly over her shoulder. She stepped inside and Max closed the door behind her.

"Lock it," Dana said in a hoarse but frantic voice. Max did so without argument and then turned to look at Dana.

"Come on," she said. "I monster-proofed my room."

"That's not funny," Dana said with a small smile.

"It kind of is. But you probably won't think so until tomorrow." She gave Dana an encouraging smile and led the way to her room. Once in Max's room, Dana dropped her bag in front of the closet, kicked off her boots and headed to the bathroom.

"I look a mess. Sleep hair and crying face should _not_ mix." Max laughed and turned towards the bathroom, but her response caught in her throat.

"Dana, honey, what happened to your leg?" Dana looked down at her leg and was surprised to see drying blood.

"I-I don't know. I must have scraped while I was sleepwalking." Max grabbed the first aid kit as Dana took a closer look. "It looks like it happened on stone or something."

Max shook her head as she handed Dana an antiseptic pad. "It could have happened on anything D."

Dana sighed as she began to clean her leg. "You know I haven't had a nightmare in ages. I've never walked in my sleep and I never sleep with jewelry on. And tonight _all _of these things happen at once. You want to know what I think?"

"What?" Max replied, noticing that Dana was still wearing the necklace. _You'd think after what happened she'd keep the thing as far away from her as possible._

"It's the universe's way of punishing me for skipping school. Watch. Once you fall asleep all hell will break loose for you too."

Max snorted, glad that Dana was regaining her sense of humor. "If that's true than Nelson must sleepwalk all damn night."

"Hell, he sleepwalks during the day."

"Until Blade walks by," they said together. They laughed as Dana finished bandaging her leg and turned to lean beside Max on the counter.

"I haven't called Terry," Dana said softly. "He works so hard. I didn't want to wake him."

"It can wait until tomorrow," Max said back gently. "Besides, if you look pitiful enough maybe he'll buy you something."

Dana smiled. "This is why I love you. Want to watch crap TV until our eyes bleed?"

"Absolutely." They exited the bathroom and Dana began looking for the remote, not noticing as Max stopped in front of her window. "She's okay Terry, go home. We'll see you tomorrow," she muttered. Outside, Terry removed his fingers from the glass and smiled. He tapped the window gently to signify his departure and took off. As he flew over Max's driveway he didn't notice the oblong bundle partially hidden in Dana's backseat.


End file.
